


Language of Touch

by PlatinumEgoiste



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Development, Character Study, F/M, Love Language, Romance, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved, Touching, Wanting to be touched, dimileth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlatinumEgoiste/pseuds/PlatinumEgoiste
Summary: In which gazes linger for too long and fingers long to stay on skin. A look at Dimitri and Byleth through the language of touch and their shared need for contact and warmth. (Dimitri x f!Byleth; Dimileth)
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. Dimitri - The Burdens of a Prince

**Author's Note:**

> My entry into the genre of game-following Dimileth fics, though I aim to venture outside of cut-scenes and canon conversations as we move along the timeline, and to build a little more on Dimitri's and Byleth's characters. An idea that has been eating at me for the last few months. Something about the language of touch and craving company from others.
> 
> Thanks in advance for reading.

As heir to the Faerghus kingdom, Dimitri was never alone. Being next in line to the throne meant an army at your whim. Butlers fetching the finest cloaks, maids scurrying about, stableboys eager to bring the royal steeds. There were always nobles around -- from those milling about the castle to those making their annual visit at court -- eager to gain favor with his father or the next person up the ladder.

He is coveted, young Dimitri learned early on, as noble after noble press their lips on his step-mother’s hand in greeting or bow deeply to his father before offering their children freely to Dimitri as playmates. Some would even go as to promise their offspring’s little hands in marriage to the young Lord -- all rebuffed by his father, thankfully.

Young Dimitri felt the burden on his shoulders -- heavy is the head that wears the crown, they say -- and the distance it placed between him and others. Unlike Sylvain and teachers at House Gautier, the royal tutors never rapped Dimitri with rulers if his attention wandered or if he spoke his mind rashly. The manservants always made themselves invisible when Dimitri idled about in the library or the bath. Even Glenn, a royal knight and one of Dimitri’s closest friends at the castle, was still bound to him by duty.

The year little Edelgard of the Empire spent in the Fhirdiad was fleeting. He doubted his choice for a parting gift -- certainly, he regrets telling Sylvain about it -- but did not know what else to get her to remember him by. What do you get for such a friend?

His parents were no help. His father, King of Faerghus, was always in the throne room with his council or talking to his court. His step-mother, soft yet so solemn, spent her time alone. When he was younger, he’d visit her salon but she would shoo him away with something else for him to do; Dimitri got the message eventually. Dinner with his parents became rarer as Dimitri grew older. After their passing, he became accustomed to dining with Dedue or simply alone with the silent royal guards.

After Duscur, Dimitri rarely left the city, and never without a retainer to guide his schedule. His uncle assumed the throne but had no heartfelt love for his nephew. Dimitri spent his days in an opposite corner of the castle. Faerghus had always been a frosty country, but the death of his family left it even colder than before. He pined for a warmth that has long eluded his home.

The day he turned of age, Dimitri took the entrance exam for the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach Monestary. He thanked the Goddess when he heard that Houses Gautier, Fraldarius, and Galatea decided to send their heirs at the same time as he and doubled down on his prayers when the Monestary admitted Dedue as well. Though Dimitri knows by now: the will and coffers of the Faerghus prince are hard to deny.

The night before he and Dedue were to depart for Garreg Mach, sleep evaded Dimitri. He had never been outside of Faerghus for an extended amount of time; he imagined the monastery not unlike to be the royal castle - though probably not as resplendent or gilded. He pictured gallant knights like that of Loog, and the wonders and stories they must have lived through. People who have gone out into the world, chosen their own paths, and carved their mark upon it. His heart filled at the promise of learning from such brave warriors and tacticians, and most of all, being surrounded with peers his age. 

Dimitri dozed off eventually, dreaming of camaraderie, arms around shoulders, and the warmth of friends nearby.


	2. Dimitri - On Propriety and Titles

The Blue Lions were almost everything Dimitri wanted.

There were his three dear childhood friends -- Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid -- and between Sylvain’s philandering, Felix’s short temper, and Ingrid’s strong-armed mediations, there was never a dull moment between them.

And there was Dedue, of course, his constant, if a little overbearing, companion. To Dimitri’s chagrin, his friend had taken on the duties that servants would perform: tea-making, early morning calls, and even fetching his helpings at the dining hall. Dimitri noted early on: he needed to have a stern chat about boundaries with his friend.

Annette and Mercedes brought softness, freshly baked sweets, and the faint whiff of magic wherever they went.

Ashe -- a Kingdom commoner in their midst -- was a gentle soul, Dimitri could tell, but the poor boy had a tendency to remind him of how he was different from the rest of the House.

‘Your Highness,’ they would refer to him. The constant deference, the frequent praises, and awkward conversations with no eye contact. At least his childhood trio acted a little more openly around him, but even so, it only seemed like the Fradalrius heir was the only one brave enough to speak his mind. Never was it pleasant or flattering -- though, Dimitri knew, that is just how Felix was to everyone.

And Dimitri was elated to see Edelgard -- young El who had brought him so much joy in his childhood -- among the Black Eagle students, but his attempts to reconnect were unsuccessful. Other than the Golden Deer’s Claude -- a smooth-talker, that one -- students of the other Houses were skittish around him. Dimitri figured he would have to nurse his relationships with the Blue Lions for now.

“Please,” Dimitri tried pleading with them at one house meal early in their school term, “Go on as if we are all equals.” To treat him as their fellow student, and not the crown prince. His request received only polite smiles and an eye roll from Felix. Dedue was the one to break the silence with a familiar remark: “Yes, Your Highness.”

When Dimitri met the professor assigned to their house, he could not help but be disappointed. The man -- a minor knight from some corner of Fodlan, Dimitri had already forgotten where -- had no interesting skills or talents of interest. How could the esteemed Garreg Mach Monastery hire such a lackluster teacher, when there were so many gifted warriors out there?

“We try to match the professors based on the students’ interests.” A patient Seteth explained to Dimitri when the prince expressed his concerns. “Professor Manuela was chosen to lead the Black Eagles House. She is a gifted bishop, and many students in the Black Eagle House are interested in her tutelage. Manuela also has deep ties to Enbarr, making her the obvious choice for them. Professor Hanneman will teach the Golden Deer House, given his proficiency in magic and archery. As you know, archery is a long held tradition in many regions of the Alliance.”

Dimitri’s worries of such a mediocre professor were confirmed when the said knight abandoned the three House Leaders during their first scouting mission to a nearby village. But that day did not only bear disappointment: the craven’s desertion brought them three face to face with the famed Jeralt the Blade Breaker and his daughter, a young and exceptional swordswoman.

He would later cringe at their introduction to this woman and their subsequent squabbling over her fealty. “You must join us in the Kingdom.” Dimitri recalled the urgency of his request, though the Kingdom was safe and at peace. Yet he desired this woman to join his cause, no matter the price. It seemed that Claude and Edelgard felt the same way, and they spurred the competitive nature within him.

The young woman's -- Byleth’s, he would later learn -- blank face and lack of recognition at their identities fascinated Dimitri. Who in Fodlan had never heard of the heirs to the three thrones or their respective houses? Even the lowest commoner in the farthest hamlet knew where their taxes eventually went or to whose house fealty they would swear if, Goddess forbid, war across the nations ever broke out.

Dimitri nursed on this intrigue as they travelled back to Garreg Mach. It was a bit of gossip to share, to retell their introduction to Jeralt and his daughter and their astounding strength. He expected that the two would stay at the monastery for a few days and be on their merry way. Or perhaps -- in his rapidly crafted fantasies -- that Jeralt would stay as the new Blue Lions professor and that Dimitri would learn from one of the most renowned fighters in all of Fodlan. 

What he was not expecting, however, was for the monastery to hire and place Jeralt’s _daughter_ as their professor. But despite the controversy it generated -- she was a no-name mercenary up to this point and could not have been more than a few years older than her students -- Dimitri raised no opposition about this appointment.

Later, he requested a one-on-one meeting just before she formally introduced herself to the class. In the classroom, she seemed slight and out of place, but he knew what she was capable of. The woman looked at him squarely in the eye, dark eyes piercing his. Dimitri met her gaze. It had been a while since someone other than Edelgard or Claude looked at him as intently as she did.

She held her hand out to him and Dimitri dropped his head to look at it. What was this?

His hesitation caused her to pull it back. “I apologize,” She shook her head. “I do not have a lot of experience around nobility, much less royalty.”

What...oh! A handshake! Dimitri cursed himself. “No, Professor,” he bowed in deference, hoping to correct his inaction. “The fault lies with me. However, we are not in the Kingdom, and you should just treat us as your students. Nothing more.”

She stared, bearing the same intent look she gave him and the other House leaders after they introduced themselves at Remire. Unused to such scrutiny from a commoner, Dimitri felt the weight of her gaze on his skin.

To his relief, she broke the silence first. “I have heard others call you ‘Your Highness.’ Should I do the same?”

“No!” His reaction was more forceful than he intended. He caught a slip on her usually impassive face. “As I said, you need not treat me differently. Just...Dimitri is fine.”

There was a knock at the door. Dimitri saw faces peering through the windows; the others were early and waiting to come in. He had more he wanted to discuss, but it would have to wait. He could not deny his classmates’ eagerness.

“Just Dimitri then.” His Professor repeated, and there was a flicker of relief in Dimitri’s chest.


	3. Dimitri - On Lessons Learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Byleth as being a fairly serious teacher. Coupled with that deadpan face, some lectures probably get pretty heavy.

"This month, we will be taking care of bandits in a village nearby." The Professor announced to the class. "I am told this will be your first mission out in the field."

The Blue Lions nodded collectively. Dimitri nodded as well, though he knew that both he and Felix had been involved in serious battles before. It would only be some time before his ugly history during the last rebellion in Faerghus would get out to the rest of the class.

"Shouldn’t we train some more to get ready, Professor?" Ashe asked from the back of the room. "I...I’m not sure I'm ready to face real people out there." Honest as always.

The Professor turned her gaze to him. 

“He’s right.” Felix piped up, sitting up straight. “You have restricted us to hand-to-hand combat for the last few weeks. And for what?”

She offered no immediate response. There was a murmur of assent around the room. Dimitri would normally jump in at this point. As House Leader, he was used to playing ambassador between the two parties: he would explain his classmates’ concerns to the Professor or add reason to the Professor’s decision.

Now, he was more interested in what she would have to say. To an extent, he did agree with Felix; except for the occasional weekend seminar, she had been focused on brawling and self-defense since the mock battle against the other Houses. And despite his strength and height advantage over everyone except Dedue, hand-to-hand combat was not something Dimitri enjoyed.

Finally, the Professor spoke. “You are right, Ashe, Felix. I have yet to prepare you all for what is to come.” She removed her bracers, setting the pieces on her desk.

“Let us form two lines, facing each other.” She moved to the center of their room. There was a moment of hesitation from the students as the same thought went through their heads: they never used the classroom for any actual combat practice. Would they start now?

Pushing aside his own reservations, Dimitri slipped into his role as the natural leader and was the first to rise. He took his place in front of their teacher and the rest of the students filed in. On one side was the Professor, Ashe, Felix, Ingrid, and Annette. Across stood Dimitri, Dedue, Mercedes, and Sylvain.

“We have an odd number of people, so I will step out of the way once I demonstrate.” The Professor turned to Dimitri. “Dimitri, I would like you to remove your gloves.”

From the corner of his eye, Dimitri noticed Dedue tense up; the Professor’s informal speech had bothered his friend over the past few weeks. “Of course, Professor,” he replied smoothly -- _see, Dedue, I am a student just like you --_ and did as she asked.

“Please hold out your hand.”

Dimitri did so. He froze as her hands grasped his. The Professor held the back of his hand -- as if she were holding a plate of food -- and she pressed two fingers from her other hand on the underside of his wrist. She focused on her task and did not acknowledge any of his discomfort, if she noticed at all. Dimitri was not shy in volunteering for tutorials or new maneuvers but this was no ordinary lesson. Her fingers were small, yet rough from use, likely from years of mercenary work. 

"In a moment, I would like you all to take turns doing what I am doing here. Hold your partner’s hands like so to feel the wrist just beneath their thumb." The Professor instructed the class. Once the others nodded, she brought her attention back to Dimitri. "Can you tell me what I should be able to feel here?"

"My pulse." Dimitri answered, now conscious of the very thing now thrumming faster under his skin.

“Yes.” The Professor stepped aside to let Ashe hold on to Dimitri’s hands. “That pulse is a sign of life.”

Dimitri furrowed his brows at her statement; surely, this is far too rudimentary for their class? The other students were now holding each others’ hands in this awkward arrangement. They switched after a few seconds or so, feeling each others’ wrists. Ashe’s hands were trembling as he held on to the prince’s hands, betraying his discomfort to Dimitri. There was a light slap and a _‘shhh_!’ from the other end as Ingrid chastised Sylvain from across the line.

“I have been reviewing all of your skills in the past few weeks and have found them proficient enough for our mission.” She moved around the students, checking on each pair, guiding misplaced hands with her own. “Many of you already have a habit of training on your weekends anyway.”

Some tension left Dimitri, allowing him to relish a bit of pride. Perhaps she noticed he was one of those who frequented the training grounds. But confusion remained: where is she going with this?

“I will tell you all what my father told me when I began to work with him.” The Professor remained impassive as ever as she moved to the head of the line. “In each fight outside of these walls -- outside of the training grounds -- you have a choice of what to do with this pulse.

“You all know that battle will likely mean taking your opponent’s life.” The Professor continued. “You may wish for them to surrender or to incapacitate them instead. But know that is always a choice. You will hear many reasons for the choices people make during battle: it may be for glory, for money, or for some lofty ideal.”

Dimitri lowered his eyes to where he held Ashe’s wrist. His chest tightened at her word. No, she couldn’t possibly...

“What I ask is that you ready yourself for that choice and for what will follow. Taking someone’s life may incur another’s vengeance. Leaving an opponent alive may leave you open to retaliation, or to a relationship with a future ally. 

“Wielding a weapon or using magic makes it too easy to forget that each of your opponents will have this pulse and are making a choice of their own. But it is always your responsibility and your burden.”

The Professor must have made a gesture, signalling that the Blue Lions could release their partners’ hands. Dimitri was not looking at her. Ashe had to tug himself out of his grasp, which had grown tight. The rest of the students were turned to where she stood, and Dimitri forced his head, suddenly heavy and stuffy, up.

“I had started our lessons with unarmed combat for two reasons,” The Professor continued, raised a hand and placed it under her chin, holding her other elbow with the other. Dimitri had come to recognize this as her thinking pose. “You may not always have a weapon or your reserves are exhausted mid-battle, so there is a practical necessity to it. But I wanted you to see what it may be like to defend yourself with no arms, to have you all to realize that any blood you draw is on your hands alone.”

She turned from them, pausing for a moment. It was the longest the Blue Lions had witnessed their Professor speak in lecture or in any situation. They remained silent, unsure if she planned on continuing.

Dimitri kept his demeanor, still and polite, yet his heart hammered in his chest. His face and ears burned. Despite being fully clothed, he was sure he had been revealed and she must have known of what he’s seen and what he’s _done_ and --

“We will begin weapons training after the mission. You are dismissed for today.”

The prince released a breath he had not realized he was holding. The room was somber; this was no standard lecture on combat. The Professor’s request to the parting class was to continue training as usual, _please see the schedule at the training grounds_ , _make sure you all go_ _this weekend_.

Mercifully, his classmates said nothing as the prince dashed out of the room, a dutiful Dedue on his heels. Dimitri would normally stay behind to ask her further questions on the material or to clarify the class chores assigned for the week. Now, he wanted nothing more than to hide from the Professor’s all-knowing gaze.


End file.
